A Stitch in Time
by Stephanie Shortcake
Summary: The day began with a fight, resulting in an accident. A fleeting second later Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are transported back in time to April, 1912. It doesn't take long for Hermione to realize they are aboard the maiden voyage of the infamous Titanic. Time is running thin, and their demise might be just on the horizon *Set in 8th year*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Takes place in the mock eighth year post DH. EWE. Almost everyone returned for their seventh year. This plot is loosely based off Titanic the movie, in the sense that Hermione is Rose and Draco is Jack. But I'm doing things slightly different and obviously their names are the same.**

**Summary- **Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were in Potions one minute, arguing, then the next they were transported. Now aboard the RMS Titanic, can they stop arguing for one minute to figure out a way home? But their time is running thin, because the infamous demise is just on the horizon.

_Chapter One_

"_It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen." — George Orwell, 1984_

_April, 1999_

"Granger, I told you to crush the bloody mandrake root. Is it that hard?" A snide voice cut through Hermione's focus. The young witch lowered her hands, closed her eyes, and sucked in a deep, oddly scented breath. The fresh rush of oxygen to her frazzled brain served it's purpose to calm her down, albeit briefly. The moment of peace was swiftly shot down when she felt herself being knocked to the wayside.

"Excuse me, Malfoy." She screeched indignantly, just as her bum hit the cold stone floor.

The blonde prick leaned over the steaming cauldron, carefully allowing tiny beads of mandrake juice to drop in. With each little drop hitting the surface, the potion hissed. Hermione watched him, seething with frustration. She desperately wanted to be the onewho completed the potion, correctly that is. So she squared her shoulders and marched over to her haughty partner.

"Move." She ordered coldly. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Harry and Ron staring at her, waiting for the minute to step in and defend their best friend. Most of the class was continuing their work, as it was common place for Hermione and Draco to bicker.

"Granger, I don't have bloody time for this." He growled, angling his body so she couldn't see the cauldron.

"Class, you only have fifteen more minutes to complete your Tempus Novoro potion." Slughorn reminded cheerfully. Hermione let out a hiss of frustration.

"Malfoy, move!" She barked, giving him a good push.

In the scuffle, Malfoy dropped the entire root into the potion and in his other hand fell the powdered ashby nuts. His hand shot out to grab something to catch his fall and the only things his hands could latch onto were Hermione and the cauldron. The two students smashed into the floor, the potion following just as quickly. They yelped in pain as it seared through their school robes.

Then the two were plummeting through darkness, speeding toward unconsciousness.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley watched this exchange, aghast. They saw Hermione push Malfoy, they saw the potion fall on them, and then...poof. Harry lunged forward pushing aside the stools and a few other students. He stopped just short of fallen cauldron. Ron was right on his heels.

"What the devil-" Slughorn burst, running over to the station the students had once occupied. His usually sleepy eyes were wide with shock. He bent down and wiped his finger through the remnants of the potion.

"Where did they go?" yelled Ron, stepping in front of Harry and picking up the pewter cauldron

"They can't have gone far," He said reasonably, thought his inside was anything but.

In the back of the room, Justin Finch-Fletchly stood up. He looked solemn and raised the Potions book aloft. "The Tempus Novoro potion was created in the early fifteenth century as a device to bring witches and wizards alike to previous times, in order to revisit the past. When the time turner was invented in the early eighteenth century, the Tempus Novoro potion became virtually outlawed, due to it's unpredictable nature. The only way to reverse the potion is to brew the potion in reverse, or in rare cases wizards have found that completing a task could return them to the present. However, if oneself changes the future too dramatically, it could upset the counter balance of the universe, thus rendering the fate of such witches and wizards bleak."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Ron shouted angrily. The Hufflepuff gave him a pointed look.

"It means, Weasley, that your precious Granger and her enemy Malfoy must not change the future, where ever they are, all while brewing the potion in reverse. Or they could never make it back." He said stonily. The class looked around at each other, then to the messy and vacant station. Harry felt his heart sink into his stomach and wondered where his friend could possibly be?

* * *

**A/N: Chapter 2 will be posted later this evening. Furthermore, I totally felt today APRIL 15 was the perfect date to post this story I've been working on for a while. It is pretty close to the movie I think, but I do diverge in a lot of areas.  
REVIEW IN MEMORY OF THE GREAT SHIP**


	2. Chapter 2

_April 10th, 1912_

She felt warm, inexplicably warm. She sighed in content and kept her eyes closed, until she felt her shoulder being nudged. She moaned and moved her head to the side. "Five more minutes." She groaned.

"Miss Hermione, we've arrived." A quiet, familiar voice said. Hermione's eyes blinked open and she realized she was in a car, or something like one. It was very lavish inside and reminded her of the cars she saw in the museums. A woman, who's curly brown hair was pulled into a tight, old fashioned bun was looking at her sweetly. She handed Hermione her hat and pushed open the door.

"Thank you, Caroline." She answered.

Hermione furrowed her brow at her automatic answer. It was as if her mouth had a mind of it's own. Hermione thought hard for a second, and remembered quite clearly that Caroline was her ladies maid. She cocked her head to the side. She didn't have a maid. But memories of her helping her dress and fetching her things paralleled the other foggier memories. Then she remembered a new memory, but it was the fuzziest of all. It was of a potions accident with her and...Malfoy.

Hermione sat forward quickly, about to ask the burning question of where are they. But the door to her left was open. A male hand reached in and she accepted it graciously. Hermione stepped out into the harsh April sun, her mind reeling with confusion. However, her large blue sun hat blocked most of it, thankfully. Hermione stood up straight in her physically binding blue and white dress. She could tell, at a half glance at the people around her, that she was one of the best dressed of all of them.

Hermione paused and caught sight of an imposing ship, looming just a short distance away. A shiver racked her spine.

"It doesn't look that impressive" Hermione commented haughtily. A deep laugh echoed from behind her. It was familiar man who had helped her from her seat. He was considerably older than she, but devilishly handsome. His name, her brain distantly recalled, was Marcus Chambers.

"Hermione, darling, you're so difficult to please. It's the largest ship in the world." He replied waving his hands as an example of grandeur. He walked away from Hermione, to the car that was following them. Hermione took the time to gaze at the ship that was somewhat familiar. She recalled photographs of it, but couldn't place it. In a tiny crevice of her brain, she wondered where the hell Malfoy had ended up. She pragmatically wondered if this persona life she was just thurst into resembled her old one at all. Hermione turned around and saw a couple walking toward them. Her eyes widened when she realized how much they resembled her own parents. Only, different somehow.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable?" commented Katherine Granger elegantly. She pulled off her white gloves and handed them to a maid who trailed behind them.

"God himself couldn't sink this ship," replied Johnathan Granger gruffly. He had a mustache and his brown eyes were piercing.

A tall and dour man emerged from the same car, as the driver this time. She glanced at him and felt something uneasy stir inside her. A porter scurried by them, shouting about the main terminal. Marcus handed him a hefty tip and the man, whom Hermione remembered as William Harper, followed the porter.

"It is a wonder," Hermione mused, smiling at the ship.

"What is, miss?" Caroline asked kindly.

"This ship. I feel as though I've known it my whole life." She raised an eyebrow and felt Marcus' arm lock around her own as he practically dragged her forward.

"Titanic is more than a ship, Hermione." He said arrogantly. "It's a vessel of greatness."

She stopped short, only to be pulled forward by Marcus, his face irritable. She felt a chunk of ice settle in the pit of her stomach and invisible manacles clasping around her ankles and wrists. It was all becoming clear now. The same fuzzy potions memory flashed in her mind. The Tempus Novoro potion. This was Titanic.

In that instant, Hermione realized two very daunting things. One, she needed to find Draco and figure out a way off the damned ship. Two, if she didn't, her fate would surely be a watery grave.

* * *

"Oi, get up, mate." A loud voice shouted. Draco felt himself being roused. He opened his eyes and was immediately aware he was not anywhere familiar. A man with curly brown hair was staring over him. Draco then realized he was on the floor, a filthy one at that. He jumped up and then became aware of the pain in the back of his head. The man, who's name swam into Draco's mind murkily, stared at his curiously

"Henry, what the hell happn'd?" He asked loudly. Two brutish men were leering at him from the other side of the table, a fallen friend at the foot of the table. Henry O'Reilly grinned and held two pieces of paper aloft and a sack of coins.

"We won, mate, c'mon, she'll be leavin' any mo'!" He said earnestly, in a heavy Irish accent. Draco furrowed his brow but followed Henry as they left the sleazy bar. He was then aware they were on the coast somewhere, and in the distance was a whistle sounding. He picked up the pace, tossing a knapsack he hadn't even noticed he was carrying.

"We're going on Titanic!" Henry cried excitedly. "You won it for us, man!"

Draco was surprised. He understood, from the few seconds he could recollect of the bar, they had played poker. In his mind, he recalled looking on the muggle game, but on the other hand he distinctly remembered being particularly good at it. He led Henry up a gangway, feeling unfamiliar excitement coarse through his body.

An officer was looking at them skeptically. "We're passengers." Henry shouted, handing Draco the tickets. Draco thrust them out to the officer.

"Have you been through the inspection?" The officer asked testily.

"Why of course sir," Draco lied. The officer rolled his eyes but granted them entrance. Once inside the ship, Draco grabbed Henry's arm and pulled him with him as they made their way to the stern of the ship. Draco mounted himself on the railings and waved to all the unfamiliar people standing on the pier. Shouts and cries echoed in his head and he felt at ease, leaning up against huge, thick ropes.

That is until he felt his vision slip past him, for an instant. A memory took over his mind. It involved a cauldron, an explosion...he fell and grabbed Granger! Draco shook his head clear and stepped off the railings. For the first time, he realized that he was Draco Malfoy and he didn't belong on a ship, nor with common swine such as his so called friend Henry. But at half glance down, Draco realized he himself was dressed as 'common swine', in a rumpled white shirt, trousers, and a thick coat with patches on the elbows. He frowned then all of a sudden he realized Granger. Where the bloody hell could she be? For the first time in his life, he hoped she too was on the ghastly ship.

* * *

Hermione followed Marcus and her parents to their private parlor suite. She saw lots of big steamer trunks and luggage scattered through the very expensive cabin. Hermione looked around the exquisitely decorated suite, from the burgundy couch, heavy oak writing desk, and other extravagant furniture. She noticed a collection of priceless artwork and was immediately drawn to that. A waiter arrived and handed her a flute of champagne which she sipped strangely. The painting were magnificent, the intricate colors and intrinsic designs looked familiar from past visits to museums.

"Those certainly were a waste of money," commented Marcus. He walked in, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, smirking. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"They're fascinating," Hermione argued. "It's almost...like a dream. Monet is a genius."

"At least they were cheap." He drawled. Hermione couldn't help but shoot him a frustrated glare. Marcus was certainly an arrogant prick, almost more than Draco Malfoy. To make maters worse, he was her fiancee in this strange world.

Hermione picked up one of the paintings and brought it with her to her bedroom, propping it up on her personal writing desk. Caroline was already in there, hanging some of the expensive gowns that belonged to Hermione. She started to talk about how she'll be the first to sleep in the sheets tonight. Caroline was so truly sweet and Hermione quite enjoyed her presence. Hermione smiled, when Marcus appeared, swinging his pocket watch around.

"And to think, when I crawl in _between_ the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first." He drawled.

Hermione remained impassive at the innuendo, but inside she screamed. How dare he? Caroline blushed a fiery color and excused herself. Marcus approached her and placed his firm hands on her shoulders. "The first and only. Forever."

Hermione felt her spirit sink, something like the ship was going to.

After she supervised the unpacking of her luggage, Hermione desperately wanted a nap. She was about to curl up on the bed when Caroline came in and said it was time for tea and Katherine was waiting. She helped the young witch dress in a slightly less formal pale periwinkle gown with matching silk shoes and small white gloves. The rest of the day was spent constantly planned and moving. Hermione sat, as though she had her entire life, listening to the men discuss the ship and the woman gossip. She recognized few people from her foggy memories. Hermione decided she liked the ship builder, Mr. Thomas Andrews, best. He was a quiet Irish fellow, but very smart like herself. She spoke with him at lunch on the second day about the ship. Marcus was particularly possessive of her, going to such lengths to order her meals for her.

Hermione was also forced to spend that lunch listening to the head of the White Star Line, J. Bruce Ismay, drone on about how magnificent his ship was. Of course, Hermione couldn't help but agree, but he was just so arrogant. Maggie Brown was discussing the name when Ismay explained he wanted to convey sheer size. Hermione smiled to herself, recalling a book she had read about psychology.

"Have you read the articles of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." She said gaily, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. Ismay looked at her blankly and Katherine looked outraged.

"Hermione, what on earth has gotten into you?" She snapped, shooting nervous looks at both Johnathan and Mr. Ismay. Hermione frowned when she saw Mr. Andrews smirk into his napkin. She stood up and dropped her napkin on her plate.

"Excuse me."

Hermione walked out of the sun filled restaurant. The air outside was chilly, but not cold. She walked across the deck to the railing. She leaned against it, her periwinkle dress fanning out in the breeze. Hermione stared at the water, almost longingly. She reached up and unpinned her absurd hat. It was white with intricate lilies and white roses around the golden ribbon. With a quick motion, she tossed it freely into the Atlantic. It was lost quickly, giving her a small sense of satisfaction.

About fifty feet or so away, a young man sat, also was staring out at the water. His friend, Kenny, was sketching beside him. He leaned his head into his palm, deep in thought. Draco turned around, to ask Kenny something when he caught sight on someone. The woman was stunning in a pink dress but somehow he noticed she looked troubled. Her brown hair was in an elegant knot at the back of her head and she looked like a statue, she was that perfect. Her face was turned away from him for a second, then slowly shifted back, her eyes settling somewhere above Draco's head.

Draco let out a loud gasp. It was Granger. He stood up and took a step forward, as if to reach out and grab her. An obviously wealthy man strode out and stopped just short of her. She said something that Draco could only assume was irate. The man grabbed Hermione's arm and they seemed to argue for a minute, until she threw her arms up and walked away. He glanced over the railing and his eyes caught sight of the yellow hat, now even further adrift. He pursed his lips and followed the way Granger had gone.

Draco quickly left his friend and practically ran toward the stairs, to get onto the deck where she was. That is, until he saw a sign that said, "First Class Passengers Only." He scowled to himself. In most cases, he would have just ignored the sign but he would stick out like a sore thumb and she was quite clearly gone. He sighed in defeat, but on the bright side he knew Granger was on the ship.

All the same, he spent the rest of the day wandering the ship. Draco found it frightening how easy he fit into the life he was placed in, all while the memories of his real life swirled with in. Here he was Draco Malfoy, a poor drifter. There he was Draco Malfoy, a rich pureblood. Speaking of, he was increasingly upset to realize he was without his wand, which only furthered the notion that he needed to speak to Granger, in hopes that she would have the slightest inkling as to how to bring them back to the present.

* * *

**A/N: Wellllll? What do you think of the first chapter? The next one is dinner so be ready :)**

**If you liked it...hated it...loved it...or even just read it, review!**


	3. Chapter 3

_April 10th 1912_

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon, in her room writing in a journal. She wrote about her fuzzy memories from Hogwarts, followed with her newer memories. Draco Malfoy was also on her mind, an annoying pest that kept nagging at her usually focused brain. Caroline came in around five to help her start getting ready for supper. It was a tedious process, with lots of tugging and pulling. Hermione was thoroughly uncomfortable when her corset was completely laced and her exquisite dress was pulled on. The dress was, as it were, lovely. It was a lavender color, with an empire waist that flowed out to the floor. The sleeves were elegant but free and she looked wonderful in it. Hermione pulled white gloves on and Caroline fussed over her hair, which was—regrettably—a mess. After an hour or so, it was pulled back into a chignon with a few fresh flowers stuck in it. Marcus entered, a large but slim box in his hands. He jerked his head and Caroline scuttled away, leaving Hermione alone with him. She avoided his gaze, focusing on a silver hand brush.

"Your behavior today at lunch was unacceptable," He reprimanded coldly.

She continued to ignore him, until he was in front of her. Hermione finally looked, but not at his face, rather the velvet box in his hands. He opened it, revealing a clearly priceless diamond necklace. It was obviously heavy, rectangular shaped—the color of blood. He unclasped it and, without asking, placed it around her neck. It was indeed heavy, so much so, Hermione immediately wanted to take it off. It was a constant feeling of being throttled. Ironically Hermione was positive she was perpetually being throttled, metaphorically of course. Nevertheless, she thanked him with a peck on the cheek and walked off quickly.

Marcus followed Hermione out of the room, where Katherine and Johnathan were waiting. Katherine latched on to Marcus, cheerfully expressing her enjoyment of the ship thus far. Johnathan offered his arm to his daughter, who accepted it carefully. Hermione said nothing as she examined his features; he bore a striking resemblance to the real like Johnathan Granger—her true father—and yet his nose lacked the bump from a childhood break, the scare above his left eyebrow was missing, and the true John lacked such a bushy mustache. Despite this, Hermione took some comfort in his company, more so than that of Katherine's.

The quartet made their way down the grand stairway. Hermione was in awe of the craftsmanship, not just of the staircase but the ship in general. Society members mingled around them, smiling dantily. They were seated with all the usual suspects, none of whom Hermione paid much attention too. She nibbled on her roast duck and drank more champagne than was acceptable, as Katherine whispered out the side of her mouth several times. After Marcus physically pulled her glass away, she excused herself in order to not whip her flute at his pompous head. In an uncharacteristic act of frustration, Hermione stood up very quickly. All the men at the table followed suit, staring at the young woman curiously. Marcus glared at Hermione coldly, but she merely turned on her heel and marched out of the dining salon. She blindly made her way to the boat deck, the roaring sound of steel cutting through the ocean burning in her ears.

Suddenly, her heart jumped into her throat. She was in a foreign world, on an unfamiliar ship, with an unknown fate. It was took much. Hermione took off in a blind sprint.

She ran so fast her lungs were on fire, but she didn't care. Her legs fought against the straight skirt of her dress and her arms nearly ripped through her sleeves. Hermione pushed forward, ignoring the disgraced looks of the passerbys. She ended up at the stern, grasping the railing for dear life. She stared out at vast black ocean, watching the propellers churn the foam. Hermione stepped up onto the railing, to the third rung, to look closer. She was mesmerized and her head was spinning.

"Miss?" A voice called out. Hermione screamed and then it was done. She fell forward, slipping on her dress and falling over the rail. Hermione managed to grab the bottom rung, but fear coursed through her veins. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and thought _I'm about to die. _She reluctantly forced her eyes open and saw a figure appearing, his arms outstretched. His face was shadowed as he heaved her back over, until she was on top of him.

"Thank you-sweet Merlin!" She gasped, standing up and stepping back.

"Granger," Draco Malfoy said. His pale eyebrow were so high almost reached his hairline. She stood there looking flummoxed for a good minute.

"It's er, good to see you." She murmured, a blush tainting her cheeks. He stepped forward.

"What the bloody hell happened to us?" He whispered fiercely. Hermione glanced around hastily.

"I don't know. It's strange, I have so many memories that aren't mine. I have a fiancee and my parents, or they appear just like my parents, are here. And bloody hell, Malfoy, we're on the Titanic," said Hermione, her voice leaning towards hysterical at the end.

"Yes, thank you, I realize that." He rolled his eyes. Hermione shook her head.

"No, Malfoy, you've never heard of the Titanic? It's one of the most infamous disasters of all time. It will sink in a few days time."

His eyes widened. "We need to get off this bloody ship, Granger."

This time she rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you captain obvious but it's not like I can just dive overboard and swim back to London. It was the Tempus Novoro potion."

He went and sat down on a bench and for the first time Hermione got a good look at him. He was wearing a pair of dirty trousers, a plain white shirt with suspenders and a thick jacket with patches on the elbows. He looked...poor.

"What do you remember about reversing the Tempus Novoro?" He asked. She frowned and sat back down. Hermione leaned her head back and tried to recall her foggy memories. She had read the chapter several times, that she knew. The list of ingredients was the first that came to her and it was less than promising.

"Malfoy, think about the ingredients. There's no way we could find mandrake roots on a ship." She said despondently. He looked sick.

"So what, we're going to die? Don't you have your wand?"

She shook her head. "No, I left it in my bag because I didn't need it."

"I dropped mine when you fell on me," he said accusingly. Hermione closed her eyes and thought back to the text.

"It said...it said..." She murmured, thinking deeply. "Nothing. I can't remember anything more."

"Lucky for you, Granger, I can. The only other way to return to the present, besides brewing the potion, is to complete a task." He said smugly.

"Well what's the task?" Hermione asked. He frowned grimly.

"See, that's the problem. No one knows. In rare instances, a handful of witches and wizards have found that if they do something of greatness, they end up in the correct time."

"So the only reliable way to return to our time is to survive this and make the reverse potion in America." She said quietly.

"It can't be that hard to survive. So what the ship sinks, they have safety measures and whatnot."

Hermione looked bleak. "That's why Titanic was so infamous. It was, is, unsinkable. Until it sunk."

"Maybe that's our task, we tell someone the ship is going to sink." He suggested, standing up. She shook her head.

"We cannot change the past like that, it's reprehensible. I do remember that changing the future too drastically could ruin the way of the world." She said sensibly. Hermione stood up and smoothed her hair. She used the pins in her clutch to tie to back and pin it back up.

"It's nearly eleven, I best be getting back to my suite." Hermione murmured. Draco looked around then sighed.

"I suppose I should escort you back." He said sullenly. She rolled her eyes but allowed him to lead her back to the deck. She was quiet for the most part.

"How are the accommodations in first class?" asked Draco bitterly. She smiled wryly.

"I cannot breathe, speak, or choose my meals freely. It's gruesome and oppressive." She said calmly.

"Is that why you looked like such a fright when you nearly jumped off the stern?" He joked cynically.

Hermione was about to respond when she saw a figure emerged from the first class doorway.

"Sweetpea," Marcus drawled, walking forward. "We've been worried."

Somehow Hermione doubted that. She glanced at Malfoy who was shuffling his feet. "Marcus, this is Mr. Malfoy. I uh, got lost and he showed me back." She lied smoothly.

Marcus didn't look like he noticed. He nodded blankly to Malfoy then offered Hermione his arm. She accepted it quietly and nodded toward Malfoy. He turned to leave when Marcus stopped him. "Join me and Miss Granger for dinner tomorrow, won't you? You did help her find her way, after all."

Malfoy shot Hermione a look and she shrugged noncommittally. "Sure, Mr..."

"Chambers. Marcus Chambers."

"Draco Malfoy." He stuck his hand out but Marcus ignored him. He guided Hermione through the door and down towards their suite, leaving Malfoy.

He frowned and felt genuine animosity towards that Marcus guy. He also felt animosity towards the filthy rich, thus further stumping the young wizard. Somewhere, in the very back of his mind, Draco knew for certain he himself was rich, probably richer than Marcus, but yet he wanted nothing more than to watch people like Marcus suffer. Draco shook his head and retreated back to the third class cabins, a cloud of confusion encircling him.

* * *

**A/N: well do you guys like it? I wrote alot of the core story a while ago, so as I go through now I'm embellishing and changing a few things. Anywho, next chapter will begin back in the present. Any thoughts on whats gonna happen there?**

**review friends. please.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Present_

"Harry, where do you think Hermione is?" Ron asked quietly.

It was late at night and they were in the common room, lounging by the cackling fire. The two men had been noticeably upset in the last two days since Hermione's disappearance. It was understandable, of course, and the teachers tried their hardest to be kind to them. Even McGonagall was worried about them. Harry was trying to play the brave best friend but Ron was simply a mess

"I think she's safe." He reassured his friend with a clap on the back.

"But she's with Malfoy." Ron pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, that might be the best thing for her, you know, not being alone. The slimy git actually might be good at helping them get home."

"What happens if she doesn't?" He asked gloomily.

Harry stared into the fire. Secretly he had been wondering the same thing. But, he just hoped that wherever she was, she was safe and hopefully happy.

* * *

_April 11th, 1912_

Hermione woke up the next morning, in her bed, alone and warm. Sun was filtering in through the small port windows, and the clock on her dresser informed her it was just before ten thirty. She was amazed she had slept so late. Hermione rolled out of bed and opened her door, calling for Caroline. The young maid appeared, curtsied, then went to the closet to pick out a dress.

"Which one, miss?" asked Caroline sweetly. Hermione surveyed each of the dresses. One was yellow and the other was a light blue. She pointed to the blue one and Caroline picked up the matching shoes. She helped her dress, then pulled her hair into a bun, fashioning it with a blue hair comb. Hermione thanked Caroline and left the suite, which was devoid of any one else.

Hermione walked to the top deck and felt the sunshine on face. It was warm in contrast to the cool air. She smiled in spite of all that had gone terrible wrong in the past few days. Perhaps in a few weeks time, she would have the luxury of reliving memories in front of the fire with Harry and Ron. That simple thought spread comfort and ease throughout her body. Hermione then remembered the reason she had gone to the deck in the first place: to find Malfoy.

She assumed that the third class passengers would have some sort of common area and she found it thanks to a sign that said third class lounge. She approached the stairs and heard the roaring noise from the top of them. It was a joyful sound, full of laughter and colorful languages. When Hermione descended the steps, a kind of hush fell over the group. She blushed, but smiled at the passengers, offering a wave to a few. They stared at her, some with envy, other with curiosity. She spotted Malfoy talking to another fellow in the corner. She walked over to him and the friend hit his shoulder and pointed to Hermione, whose blush deepened.

"Mr. Malfoy," She cleared her throat and smiled—although it was forced. He raised a pale eyebrow, the infamous smirk present.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked cordially, but Hermione detected the sarcasm underneath. She gritted her teeth and froze her face in order not to scowl. He was such an arrogant prick.

"May I speak to you..." She said pointedly. He looked around and shrugged. "In private, if you please."

He stood up and said goodbye to his companion, then followed her to the upper deck. The officer gave him a nasty look, but seeing as he was the guest of a first class passenger he couldn't say anything. They walked side by side in silence for a few moments, before Hermione cleared her throat.

"Can I tell you something?" She asked quietly, looking out into the bright midday sunlight.

"I have a feeling you're going to no matter what."

"I'm scared." She confessed, choosing to ignore his jab. "Scared that I won't survive this bloody ship."

He was silent, but his lips formed a cold line. Then he nodded. "I am too. I thought about searching for the ingredients anyway, but I found that most of my friends," He used the term loosely while gesturing to below the ship, "hardly speak the same language. If I started spouting off potions ingredients they might think I've gone loony."

She snorted. "And I can hardly speak at all, let alone about seemingly mythical things. I have completely deduced that Marcus is a muggle. Although, I wonder about his man servant. He seems to be a little unordinary."

"I think we should make a plan." Draco said as they took seats on two wooden lounge chairs. Hermione sat straight backed and proud, something Draco noticed was atypical for the girl who was always hunched over a book. Things truly were reversed here.

"What are we going to do once we get back to New York?" She asked seriously. He nodded. "I've been doing a lot of thinking-"

"Shocker." He muttered. She shot him a deadly glare and he quieted.

"I cannot seem to remember anything about this damned ship. I mean, really I've researched it before but my memories have practically vanished. I just know it sinks and that's _all_! I think it has to do with the Tempus Novoro, obviously."

"Well what does that mean? We just need a ruddy plan to get back however the hell we can alive." Draco barked.

"I, for one, am more likely. I'm a wealthy first class female, so I'll get to the lifeboats first. Your best bet is to wait for one to accept males." advised Hermione, thinking logically.

He paused. "And what happens if I don't get onto a life boat?"

"Quite honestly, you're practically doomed." Her pragmatic voice lowered to a whisper. "Draco, I'm serious. This is a quite disastrous situation and I really don't want either of us to die."

"Thanks for caring." He said sarcastically. Hermione frowned.

"Well, what do you propose I do? Dress you up in drag?" She snapped angrily. Draco rolled his eyes.

"So how are you and Mister Chambers?" He said his name in a hoity toity voice, changing the subject from his eminent death. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Hermione fell silent, her mind moving to her fiancee. "He's dreadful, but apparently all of New York's society will be attending our wedding in July. My mother cannot seem to stop talking about it."

Draco did not say anything in response. The pair sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench, staring out at the vast ocean that would soon act as a watery mass grave. It was he who spoke first,

"Your hair is different, slightly It's almost blonde." He added, as though it was an insult. Hermione's hand moved up to her curls.

"And your hair is darker."

Hermione squirmed in her corset, which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "So, you're joining us for dinner? It might turn out to be fun."

He laughed bitterly. "At least I know how to get on with these people. Pureblood society is not at all any different."

"I pity you," Hermione's voice suggested mirth but she was completely serious. They lapsed back into silence before she spoke again. "Do you still hate me?"

He looked up, alarmed. "Hate you? Bloody hell Granger, where did that come from?"

She blushed and cast her gaze down. "I mean it. I know we've hated each other in the past, I just think that give the circumstances it would be best to at least be civil with each other..."

"I don't hate you." said Draco truthfully. "You've always been an insufferable know it all, best friend of the boy wonder and weasel, but if there ever was a tolerable Gryffindor it's you."

Hermione laughed. "So you're saying I'm tolerable? Hm, well thank you, Malfoy. I must say, you continue to master the element of surprise."

She stood up and gestured for him to follow her. They lapped the boat deck, unsure of what else to talk about. They touched on negligible things, most of which pertaining to the life they were currently living. Their old memories were muddled, proving difficult to remember things. For example, Hermione briefly attempted wandless magic but found it impossible because she couldn't remember a simple spell! So they avoided the subject of magic almost entirely. The sun was setting on the horizon which meant it was nearly dinner time. A horn bellowed, just as the two ran into Hermione's mother.

"Hermione, darling," Katherine simpered, clutching her fan to her chest.

Draco shuffled his feet next to Hermione. She glanced over to him, then smiled. "Mother, this is Draco Malfoy. He was of great service to me last night and Marcus invited him to join us for dinner. Draco, this is Maggie Brown, my mother Katherine, and the Countess."

"Pleasure." He replied smoothly, nodding his head sharply.

Maggie Brown stared at him knowingly, a smile plastered on her face. The horn sounded again and Katherine grabbed Hermione's arm, guiding her away to get ready for their formal dinner. Draco was left with Maggie Brown, who continued to stare at him.

"Do you have the slightest idea what you're about to get yourself into?" She asked calmly.

He blushed and shook his head. Maggie laughed and asked him to follow her. It was going to be an interesting evening.

* * *

**A/N: Yay a little Draco/Hermione action**


End file.
